


Fever To Form

by reconquer



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Underage Drinking, yeah its a messy drunkfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24930232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reconquer/pseuds/reconquer
Summary: There’s this phrase, right, about money burning a hole in your pocket. Yuki doesn’t have any money to spend, but he does have a bottle that’s burning a hole in his pocket, so to speak. Well, it’s burning a hole in the lowest drawer of his desk.
Relationships: Sohma Kyou/Sohma Yuki
Comments: 7
Kudos: 107





	Fever To Form

**Author's Note:**

> very on-brand of me to not write anything for an entire year and then post a rarepair messy drunkfic out of nowhere. un-beta'd. enjoy!

There’s this phrase, right, about money burning a hole in your pocket. Yuki doesn’t have any money to spend, but he does have a bottle that’s burning a hole in his pocket, so to speak. Well, it’s burning a hole in the lowest drawer of his desk.

Shigure gave it to him right when he first moved in. It was a gift from a coworker or something, but Shigure had gotten a bunch, and he’d been complaining that he wasn’t a huge drinker and didn’t have room for all of them, so he’d given one to Yuki. Yuki judged him for it at the time—he was fifteen, for Christ’s sake—and kind of forgot about it until now. 

He’d been looking for some old notes he said he’d let Haru borrow, which had turned into him ripping his whole room apart. He still hasn’t found the notes, but he did find the bottle.

It’s clear and unassuming, with just the brand and prefecture it was made in on the front in simple black kanji. The seal breaks with a satisfying snap when he twists the bottle cap, and the smell of alcohol assaults his nose immediately, tingly and sharp.

 _You’re seriously going to drink alone?_ Says the nagging voice that runs through his subconscious. _Lonely, as always. Akito’s right about you._

Yuki shakes his head, clearing the thought, but the sting lingers. It’s not like he has anyone to drink with. Tohru would never (and Yuki would never ask), though there’s a chance Shigure would, actually. Either way, both of them are out, the former at Hanajima’s for the night and the latter out for a bar night with his publishing company.

 _Kyo’s downstairs_ flits through his mind, and Yuki can’t help but laugh to himself. As if Kyo would ever say yes to drinking with him. As if Yuki _wants_ to get drunk with Kyo.

But he also kind of doesn’t want to drink alone, and now that the thought is in his head, he can’t get it out.

 _You’ll settle for anyone_ , says that voice as Yuki pushes to his feet.

Yuki descends the stairs as quietly as possible. Kyo’s sprawled to the side of the living room table, lying on his back with his head turned away from Yuki. The TV is on but Kyo doesn’t seem to be watching it, focused instead on the book in his hand. 

“Hey,” Yuki says.

Kyo’s head snaps to face him, eyes already narrowed in suspicion, nostrils flaring preemptively. 

“What?”

“What are you doing?”

Kyo rolls his eyes. “None of your business.”

Yuki clenches his jaw and suppresses the all-too-familiar urge to start flinging insults at him. He breaths out slowly through his nose before saying, “I found this in my room, and I wanted to know if you wanted to…”

Kyo’s eyes find the bottle in Yuki’s raised hand and his eyebrows disappear behind his bangs.

“With you?”

“Yes.”

“Is that yours?” Kyo sits up, setting his book face-down on the table.

“Obviously, stupid cat.” Yuki crosses to sit at the table, setting the bottle down. “Shigure gave it to me a while back.”

“That guy’s a bad influence,” Kyo mutters. He grabs the bottle and holds it up to inspect, then looks back at Yuki through slitted eyes. “Is this a trick or something? Not really your style.”

“It’s not a trick, Kyo. I just don’t want to drink alone.”

“Really? Drinking alone seems pretty on-brand for your miserable ass.”

“If you don’t want to then I’ll just leave,” Yuki huffs, grabbing the bottle out of Kyo’s hand. 

“Wait,” Kyo says. Yuki freezes and watches Kyo blink slowly. He can literally see the gears turning in Kyo’s big, empty head. “Let’s.”

“Yeah?”

Kyo sighs, sprawling back onto the floor. “Sure, why not.”

Yuki nods, once, letting the tension he didn’t realize he was holding drain from his shoulders. It’s not that he’s nervous, exactly, it’s just that him and Kyo’s interactions aren’t normally this...calm. But he also doesn’t normally talk to Kyo unless he’s starting a fight. 

“Cool,” Yuki says, standing and sliding the door to the kitchen open.

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“You want to drink straight out of the bottle, dumb cat?”

Kyo makes a small frustrated sound before saying, “Oh. Right.” 

Yuki fishes Shigure’s sake cups and saucers out from the cabinet before setting them down on the table and pushing the bottle towards Kyo.

“Why do I have to do it?” Kyo snaps.

“Because you’re younger,” Yuki says, smirking at him. “Show some respect.”

“I’ll show you _something,_ ” he grumbles, but does it anyway, letting the sake spill over into the saucers a little.

Yuki carefully raises the cup, meets Kyo’s eyes, and says, “Cheers.”

It tastes like it smells. It’s pretty sweet, which surprises Yuki, but not sweet enough to mask the taste of alcohol, tangy and strong. He takes another cautious sip, feeling like he’s already getting used to the taste. 

“It’s not that bad,” Kyo mumbles. Yuki hums in agreement. “You said Shigure bought this for you?”

“No, it was a housewarming gift he didn’t want,” Yuki says.

“Oh.” Kyo drums his fingers on the table. “Well. This is awkward.”

“It’s only awkward because you just made it awkward, idiot.”

“Like you’re dying to have a conversation with me.”

Yuki rolls his eyes. “Fine. Let’s find something on TV, then. We can make a drinking game out of something.”

“That’s...actually a pretty good idea.”

“There’s a reason I’m top of our class and you’re not.”

“Bite me,” Kyo snarls, throwing the remote at Yuki so hard it bounces off the side of his arm.

“Gladly,” Yuki grumbles, taking a too-large sip of his drink and snatching the remote off the floor beside him. He flips through the channels—news, that channel that always runs black-and-white movies, gaudy game shows—“Mogeta?”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“It’ll be easy to make a game to,” Yuki points out. “Take a drink every time someone says Mogeta’s name.”

“We’re gonna die.”

“So be it.”

“Masochist freak,” Kyo mumbles.

“Mogeta!” Says Mogeta. They both drink. 

They sit in awkward silence for a few minutes, but the more Yuki drinks, the more comfortable he feels. He can tell Kyo feels the same, his posture relaxing enough that his elbow is extended halfway across the table, hand supporting his face. Yuki stares at the back of Kyo’s neck, at how his tan skin clashes with his orange hair. He wonders if it feels like his own hair, thin and soft, but it looks thicker than his.

“Take a drink every time they ignore the laws of gravity,” Kyo says, snapping Yuki out of his daze.

“Take a drink every time you can’t tell if a character is a boy or a girl,” Yuki adds.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Kyo picks up his book and flips to the very last page. He pats behind him on the floor, searching for something.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing these down. I’m already kinda…” He gestures vaguely towards his mostly empty sake cup. “There it is.”

He produces a pen from under the table and scribbles onto the page. 

“What’re you reading?”

Kyo eyes flick up to Yuki’s, a look of dim surprise on his face. “Um. Just our book for classical lit.”

“Oh. Do you like it?”

“Well, aren’t you chatty.” He picks up the bottle, still mostly full. “Want more?”

Yuki’s head is a little foggy, but not _that_ foggy, so he nods. 

By the time they’re halfway done with their second cups, the page has even more rules on it—take a drink every time the floor breaks disproportionately to a character’s body weight, every time a character gets a power-up, every time the main character almost kisses his love interest but doesn’t.

By the time they start their third cups, Yuki’s properly dizzy, and he feels weirdly giddy and keeps laughing way too loud at the program. Kyo’s face is flushed an unfortunate shade of red and he keeps tugging at the collar of his shirt. Yuki laughs at him even though his cheeks are burning too, and the room really does seem to have gotten significantly warmer since they started. 

By the time they finish their third cups, it’s nearly midnight and the room is spinning a little. Yuki has to keep blinking, hard, to focus on the screen, and Kyo’s more relaxed than Yuki’s ever seen him.

Suddenly, Kyo’s ears visibly twitch and he sits bolt upright.

“Shigure’s coming down the path,” Kyo blurts.

“So?” Yuki asks. “He’s the one who gave this to me.”

“If he sees that we got drunk together he’s _never_ gonna let us live it down.”

The color drains from Yuki’s face. “Shit.”

“Quick, quick, grab the—”

The cups are already in Yuki’s hands, the bottle and book in Kyo’s, and they scramble up the stairs together, limbs overlapping in the narrow stairway. Kyo nearly slips but Yuki grabs onto his bicep, pulling him up to the last landing and yanking him through the first door he sees, shutting it closed behind him as quietly as he can in his drunken panic.

Shigure doesn’t say anything when he lets himself in, but Yuki faintly catches, “...always leave all the lights on…” before hearing the soft thud of Shigure’s bedroom door closing behind him.

Yuki’s brain is lagging like an overworked computer. He blinks—it’s dark, and Yuki’s not really sure what room he even pulled them into, but there’s something hot tickling his left hand and his right hand is sticky.

He blinks a few times, reorienting himself. His right hand is sticky because his fingers are inside the sake cups, keeping them and the saucers stable against his chest. And the thing tickling his left hand—

“Can you get the fuck off of me?” Kyo says, words muffled by Yuki’s palm covering his mouth.

“Huh?”

“Get off me, fuckin’ rat—” 

There’s a hand gripping Yuki’s hair and he thinks he’s being turned around, because now there’s something solid at his back. The cups he was holding clatter noisily to the floor, and they both wince and freeze. Nothing happens, and they let out a sigh of relief simultaneously. 

“Why’d you drag us into the goddamn bathroom?” Kyo whispers.

Yuki blinks. “I didn’t realize—”

“Weren’t you the one just bragging about how smart you are?”

“I’m drunk, okay? And I didn’t want Shigure to see us.”

“Fucking whatever. Now get the fuck off of me.”

“You’re the one pinning me against the door—”

“ _You’re_ the one with his hand up my fucking shirt—”

Yuki pushes Kyo sideways and Kyo’s butt collides with the edge of the sink. Kyo shoves back, forcing Yuki’s closed fists to let go of Kyo’s shirt and sending him against the opposite wall. Yuki kicks Kyo’s ankle, sweeping his foot under Kyo’s, but Kyo grabs the front of his shirt and brings Yuki down to the floor with him.

Yuki manages to bring his arm up to stop his head from bashing into the tile, but his elbow lands _hard_ and pain shoots up his arm. Kyo’s still grappling with him, legs kicking out against Yuki’s, one hand pulling his hair and the other his shirt, evidently trying to keep Yuki from getting back up. 

“Can you calm—” Yuki grabs at Kyo’s wrist and pushes his thumb into the tendon there, forcing his fingers to loosen in his hair. “The hell—” He swings his knees outward to part Kyo’s legs, flipping them so Yuki can use his body weight to dig his knees into Kyo’s upper thighs. “ _Down?_ ” He pushes Kyo’s arms up, pressing down with his palms on Kyo’s forearms so that he’s trapped. 

They’re both panting, hard. Yuki is fully sitting on top of Kyo, his arms pinned above his head, shirt rucked halfway up his stomach. Even in the dark Yuki can tell his pupils are blown, and their faces are so close that he can smell the sake on his breath. Yuki is sweating—it’s still so hot—and he can’t seem to look away from Kyo’s flushed face.

And then Kyo surges up and kisses him.

It’s barely a kiss. It’s hard bone thinly concealed by soft lips, a millisecond of a tongue flicking against his own, Yuki’s knees pressing down on Kyo’s thighs even harder.

 _What what what,_ says that voice in his head, dizzy and unsure from the alcohol and adrenaline, and then a smaller _you’llsettleforanyone_ that Yuki pushes down before the thought can fully form. He opens his mouth wider, pushing his tongue behind Kyo’s teeth. Kyo makes a noise low in his throat and heat flashes down Yuki’s spine.

“Shut up,” Yuki pants.

“Make me,” Kyo growls. 

Yuki kisses him, the alcohol suppressing whatever logic his brain has left. It’s a better kiss than the first one, wet and hot and all-encompassing. Kyo moves underneath him, wiggling enough to get his arms free, and he tangles one hand in Yuki’s hair while the other presses down at the base of his spine. Yuki’s knees slide off Kyo’s thighs, meeting the bathroom floor with a dull thud. He gasps a little at the sudden pain. Kyo bites his lip, and he gasps again.

Kyo’s fingers dig into his spine, forcing Yuki to lay flush against Kyo. Their chests heave against one another’s and he can feel Kyo’s bare stomach against his own where his shirt is starting to bunch up. Yuki’s hands are still pressed on the tile above Kyo’s head and he moves them to lay flat against Kyo’s chest. 

It’s so weird. It’s so, so weird and so _intimate._ Kyo’s fingers brush against the edge of his underwear and Yuki shivers, his hips involuntarily twitching forward. Kyo groans into Yuki’s mouth, his hand tightening in Yuki’s hair.

“I thought I told you to be quiet,” Yuki snaps breathlessly, pulling away from Kyo’s mouth. He buries his face into Kyo’s neck, sucking a little where he can see Kyo’s pulse jumping wildly. He’s running on instinct, but he’s seen people do this in movies. He must be doing something right, though, because Kyo gasps.

“It’s not that easy when you’re…” Kyo squirms underneath him again, and the room seems to get even hotter.

“Stop moving so much.” Yuki squeezes Kyo’s thighs with his own, trying to get him to _stop_ , because he feels—

“Figures you’d be this fucking bossy,” Kyo grumbles.

“Figures you’d be this annoying.”

“I liked this better when you weren’t running your big mouth.”

“Likewise.”

Yuki sucks at Kyo’s neck, harder this time, and even with his legs pinned, Kyo’s hips still thrust up, and—

Yeah. Kyo’s hard. Like, so is Yuki, and it should’ve been obvious even without the confirmation, but it’s still dizzying. Emotions flash through Yuki like pages in a flipbook: need, shame, desire, disgust. Yuki’s hips press down onto Kyo’s, and he knows Kyo can feel it, too.

“Fuck,” Kyo groans. Both of his hands are on Yuki’s lower back now, encouraging him to keep rolling his hips into Kyo’s. 

Yuki’s panting in earnest now, quick and short, into Kyo’s neck. He’s wearing thin pajama pants, and the friction of his dick rubbing against Kyo’s through his athletic shorts is almost too much. When Kyo reaches into Yuki’s underwear to grab a handful of his ass, he spurts out some pre, a small whimper escaping his lips. 

He reaches his own hand up Kyo’s shirt, finding a nipple and pinching it. Kyo’s breath catches in his throat, so Yuki pinches harder. Kyo retaliates by digging his nails into the meat of Yuki’s ass and letting one finger drift over to press lightly at the top of his crack.

The realization that he’s not going to last much longer crashes over Yuki like a tidal wave. His dick is throbbing and his thrusts are getting sloppier and quicker. Everything is Kyo, his big hands gripping him, his badly suppressed moans in Yuki’s ear, his dick hard against his own.

 _If you come first, you’ve lost_ floats to the top of his brain. But there’s nothing he can really do about it now—his balls are tightening and he feels the familiar headrush that comes right before an orgasm. He grips onto Kyo’s bicep and, with a muffled, “ _Ah,_ ” spends himself into his boxers.

Yuki’s not sure he’s had an orgasm this strong since—well, maybe ever. He’s fingers are still digging into the skin of Kyo’s arm but he’s stopped moving, instead just gasping into the crook of Kyo’s neck.

“Fuck,” Kyo says. “ _Fuck._ Did you just come?”

Yuki just nods.

“What, no clever comeback?”

“Excuse me for needing a moment right after an orgasm,” Yuki says. His voice is embarrassingly breathy and high. He shakes his head, once, before shoving his hand into Kyo’s boxers and wrapping a hand around his dick. 

Kyo yelps way too loudly, and Yuki whips his hand out of Kyo’s shorts.

“Do you _want_ to get caught?”

Kyo shakes his head vigorously. “No, I’ll be quiet, just—”

“That’s what I thought,” Yuki murmurs, sliding his hand back to where it was. 

It doesn’t take very long. Yuki barely has time to become accustomed to doing this at this angle before Kyo pulses in his hand and splatters onto his own stomach, barely suppressing a moan through clenched teeth.

He pulls his hand out and wipes the bit of come that got on him onto Kyo’s shorts.

“Seriously?” The breathlessness in Kyo’s voice takes the usual bite out of it. “There’s toilet paper right behind you.”

“Like I care.” 

They’re both sweating so much that Yuki has to practically peel himself off Kyo. He abruptly remembers the mess in his own boxers, already stiffening the fabric in the front. He leans back against the cupboard, legs bent in front of him so that part of his underwear isn’t touching him anymore. Kyo props himself up too, settling back on the opposite wall. 

“Well,” Kyo grunts. “We can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Oh, so you _can_ use your brain?” Yuki snaps.

Kyo rubs at his face with both hands. “I’m already regretting this.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Whatever.” Kyo lets his head loll against the wall. There’s a dark spot on his neck, though Yuki can’t tell exactly _how_ dark since the lights are still off, and it makes his stomach clench in an unsettling mix of anxiety and arousal. He decides to let Kyo find it on his own later; right now, it’s his priority to get the hell out of this bathroom. Despite the alcohol, he’s starting to get overwhelmed with embarrassment and self-awareness. 

“So,” Yuki says awkwardly.

“If you wanna leave, you can,” Kyo sighs. “You look like you’re ready to bolt.” Then, under his breath, “Shifty-eyed rodent weirdo.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Yuki stands. The room is still spinning, but less than before, and his heart rate has more or less settled back to normal. “For the record, it was good. For me.”

Kyo blinks up at him, surprise evident on his face. “Oh. Yeah. Me too.”

“Well.” Yuki finds the door handle and cracks the door open slightly, checking to make sure Shigure isn’t upstairs, even though he would have no reason to be. “Goodnight.”

Kyo snorts a little before muttering, “Night.”

Yuki makes his way back to his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him before sinking down to the floor, resting his head on his knees. 

He’s definitely still drunk. He doesn’t feel like he’s going to be sick, but his brain feels muddled and everything is still slightly out of focus. He also does not, under any circumstances, want to think about what just happened.

Except that he kind of does.

Because it felt really good.

And he’s never been touched like that before.

And Kyo is actually kind of attractive. 

Yuki shakes his head, pulling himself up. He wishes he could take a bath, but they’d already run one earlier, and Shigure would hear it if he did it again. Instead, he strips, throwing his sweaty clothes in the general vicinity of his hamper and pulling on some new ones without even looking at them first. He stumbles a little on the way to bed and practically faceplants onto his pillow, makes a sloppy cocoon out of his comforter, and falls into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thx for reading ! hmu @ yukisohmasmokesweed on tumblr if u care to :3  
> if u would like to reblog: https://yukisohmasmokesweed.tumblr.com/post/622006153220669440/fever-to-form-reconquer-fruits-basket-archive


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